Hear You Me, My Friends
by rideswithprongs
Summary: Sirius is in The Leaky Cauldron, nursing a firewhiskey to help keep away the horrors of the war when he hears the news.


Sirius is in The Leaky Cauldron, nursing a firewhiskey to help keep away the horrors of the war when he hears the news. The whispers fly through the pub, across to his ears and he momentarily stops still, his glass raised halfway to his lips, before his head is whipping around, searching for the speaker. It is impossible to find them; that one whisper has instantly caused a flurry of hushed conversation throughout the room, the news now the only thing that anyone can talk about.

"All dead, not one survivor," Sirius hears from behind him.

"Put up a good fight, I heard," is the whisper from another direction.

"The Mckinnon's, all gone, can't believe it," is another snippet he hears. The hand holding onto his drink begins to shake, and Sirius puts it down, his eyes following the path his hand takes until his eyes are firmly resting on the table. He doesn't want to – _can't – _look at anyone; can't join in with the mindless whispers that make him want to tear the whole place up, because it cannot possibly be true. He refuses to believe it until he has talked to someone in the Order – James, Remus, Dumbledore, anyone who he can trust.

He is up on his feet in a second, cloak already in hand when James is there in front of him, shifting awkwardly from one foot to another, his eyes full of pain, and Sirius just _knows. _He feels like a bus has hit him, his knees buckle and he has to grip the table to keep himself from falling. James' arm comes out to steady him, the look of sympathy on his face telling Sirius that he knows he doesn't need to say the words, but Sirius shrugs it away, pushes past him and stumbles out the pub.

xxxxxx

Sirius apparates to Hogsmeade, then slips into the grounds of Hogwarts, makes his way to the lake; the spot where he first kissed her, one warm summer's day they had both refused to waste in classes. They'd spent the afternoon chatting about nothing of particular importance; lessons, their friends, quidditch, and after, when he'd leaned over to kiss her, the sun beating down on their skin, she'd let him, her mouth eagerly coming to meet his.

He finds the exact spot and sits down, stares morosely at the lake. He is painfully aware of how selfish it is, knows that he should be thinking of her, and only her, but all he can focus on is that she was the only girl he'd ever loved, and he never told her. The thought eats away inside of him, guilt creeping into every crevice of his body, causing his stomach to twist and clench. He doesn't know how long he stayed there – it could have been minutes or hours or days – before going home.

xxxxxx

Before too long Sirius is in denial, refusing to believe that she is gone. Even at her funeral – which is a blur of old faces from school and familiar faces from the Order and James' hand on his shoulder, the only thing anchoring him to a world he no longer understands - he cannot accept it. Even as he watches her coffin being lowered into the ground, he convinces himself this is all a sick joke.

He starts seeing her everywhere he goes; in the street, during Order missions, even staring back at him instead of his own reflection, when he looks into a mirror. Sleep holds no respite for him; she is there in his dreams, always just within his grasp, but as he reaches out to her she dances away, her familiar laugh tumbling from her lips. He wakes up gasping, drenched in sweat. He takes to avoiding sleep; stays awake all night drinking instead, gets through the days with a variety of potions to keep him awake. He becomes numb; a shadow of his former self. Most days he cannot remember how he spent them.

xxxxxx

Sirius doesn't cry in the weeks and months that follow her death. Early one morning, after another sleepless night, as the last vestiges of dark have disappeared and the dawn light is creeping in through the window, he wonders if maybe it will make him feel better if he allows himself to feel properly, and he tries to cry, but can't. He wonders if it is because he still doesn't fully believe it, or if it is because he has numbed himself so much, or because he knows that if he cries, he will finally have to accept that she is gone.

It isn't until he has been handed over to the dementors and taken to Azkaban that he finally does cry. There in his cell he heaves with the sobs that wrack his body, the emotions that he has been hiding within himself finally being unleashed. He cries for everybody; for Marlene, who he has finally accepted is gone, for Doe, killed by Voldemort himself, for the Prewett's who fought like hero's against five deatheaters. He cries for Remus who is out there somewhere, with no one left and with no idea that Sirius never left him. He cries for James and Lily, who he persuaded to put their trust in the wrong person, and for Harry, who is now an orphan, growing up without the love he deserves. He even cries for Peter, whose fear turned him into someone Sirius cannot reconcile with the boy he knew at Hogwarts.

He realises, as he sobs, that no matter what, they have all lost. Even if the Order succeeds, even if Voldemort is defeated, none of them will win. Too many people have been taken, and the survivors will never be the same, even if they manage to rebuild some semblance of a life. He sobs for hours, only stopping when exhaustion overwhelms him, his body collapsing in on itself from the sheer effort. It is the only time he cries.

xxxxxx

**A/N: If you read but don't review a fairy will die. **


End file.
